


Meeting Sherlock Holmes

by anna_liz_fiction



Series: Sherlock BBC [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Adorable, Anyways, Cute, F/M, Fanfiction, First Meeting, Fluff, I, Romance, Tags, do, don't, readerinsert - Freeform, weird sherlock, well when is he ever normal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-18 09:52:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9379265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anna_liz_fiction/pseuds/anna_liz_fiction
Summary: Wrote by AnnaA romantic series about your first encounter with our favorite, highly functioning, sociopath <3Beta: Liz





	1. The first encounter (1)

**Author's Note:**

> Fandom: Sherlock
> 
> Pairing: Sherlock x Reader (female pronouns used)
> 
> Warnings: None
> 
> Words: 1058
> 
> Writer: Anna

Living in the basement flat at Baker Street 221B had been quite pleasant for the last two years. Well … at least until your dead thought neighbor, the famous detective Sherlock Holmes re-appeared.

Since then living here has been quite a challenge for your nerves. Even though you have never met him in person, you knew plenty about Sherlock Holmes.

For example the fact, that he liked to play Bach on his violin until three in the morning or was keen on experimenting with all different kinds of weapons and some pretty strange smelling chemicals.

***

Just yesterday evening as you returned from work, you noticed an unusual scent even before you opened the front door. You couldn’t help to wrinkle your nose and furrow your eyebrows together. Slowly you pushed the door open, but as soon as you stepped into the corridor, your irritation changed into the strong desire to puke out the Chinese noodles you had for dinner. The odd smell reminded you of a mixture out of vomit, old sweat, and eggs.

Mrs. Hudson had warned you, that your neighbor enjoyed doing all of his little science experiments rather in his flat, than somewhere else. And that most of them ended rather … smelly.

Because everything you could think of was escaping this horrible scent and getting into your own apartment, you didn’t notice the shadow standing at the very top of the stairway, which was studying you with curious blue eyes.

***

You stared at your alarm beside your bed on the nightstand.

It was half past three now and you still weren’t able to sleep.

Even though you had already tried to make yourself tired by reading in Freud’s The Psychopathology of Everyday Life, drinking a cup of tea or just by working, but nothing seemed to help.

This week you had a big presentation coming up and you hadn’t gotten a good night of sleep in ages. But this wasn’t the only reason. Also, the god damn detective in your house had been playing his freaking violin for the last two hours. Usually you liked classical music, because it helped you think. But thinking was really the last thing on your mind right now. All you wished for was to finally fall asleep and this ongoing violin concert to stop.

If it wouldn’t have been for your presentation you probably wouldn’t have even wasted a thought about going up there and asking the one and only Sherlock Holmes to stop.

But right now it felt like you hadn’t any other option.

With a sigh escaping your lips you threw away the blankets and managed to get out of your warm and cozy bed. You couldn’t find your slippers anywhere, so you decided to go barefoot. Throwing a cardigan over your bare arms, which weren’t covered by your sleeping t-shirt, you made your way upstairs.

As you came by Mrs. Hudson’s apartment you asked yourself how the hell she could sleep with all this noise in her house. The stairs were slightly cold under your naked feet and you were quite relieved as you found yourself on a “Welcome” floor mate in the first floor. From inside you still heard the violin playing and for a moment you thought that maybe it would leave a bad first impression if you would knock now.

But then, taking a slow breath in and out for the last time, you decided to go through with it.

As soon as you knocked, the violin stopped and shortly after that footstep hurried to the door. As it opened, you saw a tall man with dark curls and beautiful blue eyes looking down at you.

For a moment you saw the excitement in his eyes, but that faded away as soon as he took a closer look at you. His eyes wandered openly up and down your body two times, what you found a bit irritating. 

“You must be, Mr. Holmes. Nice to meet you, I’m-”, you started but weren’t able to finish because he had already interrupted you.

“I know who you are.”

“You do?”

“Do you think I’m stupid? Of course, I do.”

You were speechless and couldn’t help staring at him.

It was no surprise to you that Sherlock Holmes knew who you were. You lived in the same house for two weeks now and he has for sure spoken with Mrs. Hudson about the new person living in the basement. And besides … Mrs. Hudson has taped your name right next to the bell, so he must have noticed.

Surprising to you was his rudeness. You had heard, that he didn’t have the greatest manners of all time when it came to interaction with strangers, but he could have had at least let you finish your sentence!

“Well, it’s nice that you do. I’m going to tell you who I am nevertheless. So why don’t we try this again, hm?” you said with a small passive-aggressive smirk.

“What a waste of my time.”

And with those words he shut the door in front of your face.

Baffled you stood there, barefoot on his “Welcome” floor mate, with raised eyebrows. Even though you had never “met” anybody ruder than Sherlock Holmes, you found him extremely interesting. It was something about his eyes; those clear blue eyes.

You knocked on the door again, but didn’t even wait for it to open before you started speaking.

“My name is (Y/N). I moved into the basement flat two weeks ago. You think you know everything about me, Mr. Holmes, but you surely don’t. If you want to study me a bit more, just come downstairs and join me for a cup of tea sometime.”

With that you turned around and decided to go back to bed. A small part of you was excited that you finally, even though very briefly, met Sherlock Holmes.

You were right in the middle of the stairway as his apartment door opened.

“It’s nice to meet you too, (Y/N).”

Holding back a smirk you turned around and looked at him.

“And, Mr. Holmes? Could you please stop playing the violin, it’s almost three in the morning.”

And with that it was your turn to leave him standing a bit dumbfounded behind you.


	2. 2

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Warnings: language

Words: 1767

Writer: Anna

 

   
"Thank you for your attention."  
With those words, you finished your presentation in front of the directors and other important members of the psychology department of the Kings College of London.   
A massive wave of relief swapped over your whole body and the smile which you had forced for the last hour, appeared completely naturally on your lips.  
Finally, this nerve wrecking presentation was over. For weeks it has been hanging over your head like a sword of Damocles.   
   
When your former professor called you two months ago and told you that the Kings College was searching for a new member in their psychology department for the new semester, you didn't even need to think about your application twice. It has always been your dream to teach - to share and discuss your knowledge with others.   
   
And now the presentation was done.   
You did your best and couldn't influence the outcome anymore. But what was already safe to say, that whatever the result of it may be, it would have effects on your career and could be a turning point. For either the better or the worse.  
Right now you were working as a psychologist in a small doctor's office in   
Brighton. And even though you loved to work there, with the increasing time and experiences you gathered over the years it got quite boring.   
Because in the end, every single problem seemed to repeat itself.  
All you did was helping people out with their marriage problems or talking to patients who suffered from depression or social anxiety.  
It bored you because no psychological problem was really outstanding or needed your full capability as a psychologist.   
   
A job in London could change that. Even if you wouldn't get the new position as a professor at the College, you planned on staying here.   
And if you by all chances would be employed, you hoped to start your own research again. Something that you were always interested in has been criminal psychology. It was exciting to try finding out how the masterminds behind some of the most vicious and cruel crimes were working.   
But it wasn't just the bad guys you were fascinated with. Also, you wanted to figure out how the good side functioned. In particular, there was just this one person in whom you started to show a bigger interest. The detective Sherlock Holmes, living in the flat right above you.   
   
You didn't come to London with the intention to move into Baker Street 221 B. It just somehow happened by meeting Mrs. Hudson in a cafe while going through a complete breakdown, caused by your overburdened nerves. She was so sweet by just listening to your story: how you just couldn't find an apartment because the bloody rental fee for every damn apartment in London was so high, how you quit your safe and rather well-payed job for an opportunity of which you weren't even sure of having.   
She listened for good half an hour before inviting you for a cup of tea to her home and showing you the basement flat of her house.  
   
All those thoughts flashed through your mind within seconds while packing your presentation tools together. The last thing you did before leaving the auditorium behind was crossing the fingers and wishing for the best. Maybe you were lucky enough to get the job.   
   
❀  
   
With a deep sigh, you put the rainbow-colored umbrella beside the closed apartment door. All you wanted to do now was to go to bed. But after a glance on your wristwatch, you decided otherwise. It was just after three o'clock in the afternoon - nobody under eighty-five should be napping around this time.   
Since the presentation had ended it had started rain outside. But not just the normal London-like rain shower, more like somebody up there was continuously pouring out buckets over the city. But you were too much of a logical person than to take it as a bad omen for the outcome of your appearance at the Kings College.  
   
While taking off your shoes and putting them neatly in their usual place, you noticed something strange. Somebody had shifted your doormat slightly.   
"Hello? Somebody there?", you asked suspiciously into the until now empty thought apartment of yours.  
Nobody answered. For a moment you thought you were just imagining things and started to walk towards the kitchen, as the smell of a cigarette came flowing at you.   
Shortly after that, you noticed somebody sitting on the sofa. It was Sherlock Holmes, holding a cigarette in the one and your favourite mug in the other hand. The coffee table in front of him was practically buried under a massive amount of different files and papers and right next to him were standing five paper boxes.   
"Mr. Holmes. What ... unexpected pleasure", you stated and took a seat in the old armchair right across from him.   
"What do you mean with unexpected? You were the one who invited me to come over for tea", he explained to you while keeping on staring into a file. It appeared rude to you, but then you had to remind yourself, that this was just his persona.   
"Yes, I have said that a few days back. Even though I don't remember agreeing on either a day or a time. But now that you are already here, I still have one question ... how in the devil's name did you get into my apartment?!"  
"I asked."  
"Whom?", you wanted to now. Because until now, you haven't given anybody the spare key to the flat. Also, you didn't hide it anywhere. If you would lock yourself out anytime in the future then Mrs. Hudson or Sherlock would let you in. Even though you weren't all too sure if the person mentioned last would actually do it.   
Still reading the file in his hands, Sherlock mumbled something.  
“Pardon?”  
“Mrs. Hudson, for Goodness sake!”  
You couldn't believe what you were hearing it, so you just had to ask again:  
“The housekeeper let you in my apartment?”  
“Don't ever call Mrs. Hudson the housekeeper in her presence. There is nothing she hates more than that.”  
With every statement of Sherlocks, you felt your blood pressure rise. Even though you were highly fascinated when it came to him and his work, he had something which made you furious.   
You were trying to calm yourself by inhaling and exhaling slowly a few times before deciding to get back to the main reason: "Why are you here anyways?"  
With that question addressed at him, Sherlock finally looked up from his file. Just to roll his eyes at you while answering: “You invited me for tea. I told you that before. Why do I have always to repeat myself when I'm with you? Are you stupid?”  
Don't answer that, Y/N, he's just trying to provoke you. Don't let him get to you.  
“What is with those files then? Doesn't look like the common books you read while drinking tea, for me. More like you decided to move your office down here.”  
The last part of your sentence should have been a joke actually, but seeing Sherlocks completely emotionless face, made you suspicious. Questioning you raised your eyebrows.  
"I indeed just met a client. How did you know?"  
"Wait a moment! You met one of your clients in my apartment? What the bloody hell?!"  
"I thought it was useless to let them carry the files up to my place if I would going to ask you for your help anyway”, he explained, sipping on his cup of tea.   
And there he sat on your sofa, looking at you without even thinking about apologizing.   
"Them? So you mean not just ONE unknown person was in my apartment without my knowledge, but a whole BUNCH of people?”, you were breathing heavily and tried your best not to scream, “do you have even a tiny bit of decency?"  
“Oh come on! If-”, Sherlock started, but you didn't let him finish.  
" You are unbelievable! You practically break into my apartment and then you are not even apologizing!" Your chest was raising and sinking heavily with every breath you took.  
“Okay, I'm sorry! Everything good now?”  
Completely surprised by the unexpected apology out of the mouth of Sherlock Holmes you just sat in the armchair for a moment. Taking your silence as an agreement to what he had said before, Sherlock carried on:  
“So are you going to help me?”  
“Help you with what?”, you asked baffled. Out of your fury, you have totally forgotten about that part.   
“A Case. Somebody broke out of the asylum. Everything you see here are medical records and secret files. I need somebody who helps me to go through them.”   
Sherlock placed his tea mug on top of a stack of files and leaned a bit forward like he was about to tell you another secret.   
“Don't you usually do this with your friend?”  
“Busy”, he replied quickly on your question.   
“Why can't it wait?”, you countered just to get on his nerves. You tried to hide that smirk of yours as best as you could because he had you hooked after he asked you to help him.   
“Because my brother thinks this man is planning a terrorist attack.”   
“Why me?”  
With every question of yours, you could see his annoyance and frustration levels rise. And with every passing second, you had more fun playing this game.  
Sherlock sighed and put his face into his hands, mumbling: “Do you always talk so much?”  
Openly smiling now, you embraced your triumph. In your opinion, it was just a little teasing which could have gone on forever, but seeing that he really wanted your help, you decided to stop.   
“Okay. I'm in.”  
At your words, he looked up at you and smiled. It wasn't the same smile as the one he gave you a few days back … this one was brighter and reached his blue eyes.   
“Great. Here you go.”  
He shoved a pile of files over the table and went back to reading his own.  
For a moment you looked at him. You didn't know how it was possible for the two of you to fight but then get along within a matter of seconds.   
And for sure with Sherlock Holmes around you wouldn't get bored anytime soon.


End file.
